


Too Close to Me

by bexara



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Romance, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 16:17:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexara/pseuds/bexara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"... A quick glance over and he has an up close and personal view of those beautiful, wide eyes. The bottom falls out and Levi understands there is no going back, not anymore."</p><p>Levi is a high school lit teacher, Eren a senior in his class with three months to graduation. A story about resisting and succumbing to temptation in which Eren constantly chases after Levi and the one time Levi allows himself to be caught.</p><p>Inspired by <a href="http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/sting/dontstandsoclosetome.html">Don't Stand So Close to Me</a> by the Police.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Close to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Was working on some other things and had my ipod on and the song listed above came on. The spammers are spamming the Ereri/Riren shippers again and as I was listening to the song I was like well what if Levi was a teacher and Eren his student, because I'm a contrary bitch and the more someone tries to tell me something is wrong the more I'm gonna go the opposite direction. I couldn't stop thinking about it and had to write this fic down. 
> 
> Tagging it underage because Levi is 34 and Eren is a week shy of his 18th birthday.
> 
> Also a reminder that I post all my fics to my tumblr- [bexara](bexara.tumblr.com)\- first and feel free to send me questions, prompts, or just chat.

If Levi thinks about it, choosing to become a teacher, a high school teacher at that, is probably one of the least intelligent things he’s done in his life.

He can’t curse, can’t smoke, can’t tell those annoying brats who don’t know Whitman from Cartman just how fucking stupid they really are. The other teachers are so demoralized by their years in the system that they just go through motions, or are so green they should be out sitting amongst their students. Only a few fall into that happy medium where they still care but understand the daunting reality of their task at hand. Levi isn’t sure where he tips the scales at and frankly doesn’t give a flying fuck.

He teaches because he can, not because he has a calling. Because he gets summers and every holiday off, doesn’t have to go in when the roads are thick with snow, and can slave away unhindered at that Great American Novel that will probably just rot away in his desk drawer, unpublished and unread.

Adding to the list of why teaching is a bad decsion is the the cafeteria food that is toxic enough it should be declared nuclear waste. Which makes the single stall in the men’s bathroom in the teacher’s lounge both heaven and hell when Thursday and its meatloaf surprise rolls around. The classes are too big, the rooms they are in too small. He’s cleaning boogers off the back wall almost every other day. The projector’s broke. The window has a gap that can’t be fixed, making it feel like ten below in the winter and a hundred and five in the summer. And on and on it goes.

Sometimes he feels ninety-four instead of thirty-four and dreams about just packing it in, finding some nice beach in Mexico where he can drink piña coladas all day and watch the white-foamed surf fight against the shore in a tug of war that never ends. That he doesn’t says much about his damn stubbornness, and the fact that deep down he still holds out hope that humanity’s future isn’t going completely down the crapper and maybe, maybe he might be the one who helps make a difference.

There might be a smidgen of calling there after all.

But then there is Eren Yeager, a kid with the widest, clearest eyes he’s ever seen, the shade so unique it doesn’t have a name. All Levi can think is if the sky and the sea made love, the result would be the color of that glittering, luminous gaze. He’s obviously been a literature teacher too long if he is thinking sappy, almost poetic words like that, but the kid does that to him. Therein lies his trouble.

Levi’s ninety-nine problems might not include a bitch, but they do include one beautiful, golden, vibrant little shit who keeps pushing and pushing until a spiderweb of cracks breach his hard-won composure. It’s only a matter of time before he shatters completely. He knows it.

Eren knows it, too.

The knowledge is on that babyish face that is already starting to change, to show promise of the attractive man he is to become. In the way Eren stares at him, like he’s the sun, the moon, the whole fucking universe and the brat can’t wait to explore him, worship him. Levi has had other lovers, other people attracted to him. Despite his short stature, his body is toned and his features are nice, topped with revealing bedroom eyes that say everything his expression never does and a head of silky, black hair. Yet none of the others have ever sank their claws into him, ripping away the thin veneer of civility he wears, exposing his dark and primal urges the way Eren does with just one look.

Dangerous, the boy is too dangerous. And taboo. And illegal.

He repeats this to himself over and over, a mantra to keep his demons at bay, to keep Eren at bay, but it doesn’t work. It never works.

When Eren comes to get his test papers, crowding Levi against his own desk, deliberately brushing a leg against him, trailing burning fingers over his, the tersely whispered, “Don’t stand so close to me, Yeager,” doesn’t fool either of them. Not when his nostrils flare, pulling the young man’s clean, woodsy scent into his lungs. Not when his pupils enlarge and his hand shakes and a telling flush crawls up his neck.

The smile Eren gives him is a mix of innocence and sex and Levi just wants the kid to go sit his fucking ass down before he loses it completely.

Eren does, but that’s not the end of it.

Days later, Levi is going around the room, asking the students for their term paper subjects, dutifully marking the answers down in his planner for follow up at a later date.

“Yeager,” he calls out as he gets to the end of the alphabet.

He doesn’t look up, not at first, but Eren remains silent and that silence finally has Levi lifting his attention from his desk.

Reaching into his bag, Eren holds up a well-worn paperback. “Lolita.”

Levi jerks, flinching so hard he jars the tea cup he keeps on his desk, rattling it on its saucer.

Swallowing a curse, he meets the kid’s gaze. There’s no hesitation in Eren’s eyes or in his voice, but there is something else. A taunt, a challenge, a declaration of intent.

The other students just look on in boredom, not feeling the tension stretching between their teacher and classmate. But Levi feels it. The back of his neck starts to sweat.

Because he is a teacher, he has to say something, anything. “That’s a pretty deep subject for a kid. I’m not sure you can handle it.” Years of practice keeps his voice steady, his expression unruffled.

“I can handle lots of things … sir.” Eren’s pause is telling, as are his words, the double-meaning behind them evident to Levi even if it passes everyone else by.

Fingers tightening around his pen until his knuckles turn white, he feels the muscle in his cheek start to twitch. The boy’s impudence is beyond acceptable, but any acknowledgment of it will break open that door he is forbidden to go through.

So he just mutters “Fine” and looks back at his planner, breaking their connection.

The next day, in the teacher’s lounge, he is eating lunch. Oluo and Mike are in there, and while he’s friendly enough with them, there is too much on his mind right now to engage in social inanities. Levi just meticulously eats, ignoring the other men, but not for long.

“Hey, Mike, you got that Yeager kid in your chemistry class, right?”

Hearing Eren’s name on the other man’s lips strikes a nerve and Levi freezes.

“Yes,” Mike responds, popping some change into the soda machine and pushing the button for some carbonated crap Levi would never willingly ingest. “Why?”

“Because he’s a freaking little turd, that’s why.” Oluo grunts. “I have him for first period and he is either cutting up with his friends or fighting with Jean Kirstein and I really want to fail him out but he keeps his grades up enough that I can’t. Even if he passes I can tell he’s the kind of kid who is going to end up working at a fast food restaurant the rest of his life, or in jail. ”

Mike chuckles. “He’s not that bad. Sure he’s a little rowdy, but the other kids look up to him. He’s got that all or nothing attitude that either appeals to or shames them. I like him.”

Snorting in disbelief, Oluo shakes his head. “I still say he’s a menace. Just this morning I saw him fighting with some other boys but when I went to pull them apart each and every one of them lied. Said they were just fooling around. If I had my way I would expel him and not even think twice.”

For some reason, it irritates him to hear Oluo badmouth the kid. While he’s cursed Eren plenty under his breath and in the privacy of his own home, he doesn’t doubt the young man is fundamentally decent. Levi’s seen how the kid sticks up for his friends, especially Armin, and it won’t surprise him if he discovers Eren’s fight this morning was just one more instance of him defending someone.

Eren’s decency is yet another reason Levi is disgusted with himself for his attraction to the boy.

Pushing away from the table, he picks up the half-eaten remains of his lunch and chucks it into the trash, no longer hungry. On the verge of exiting, he stops and just cannot keep from saying something.

“You know, Eren gets perfect grades in my class and is a model student.” A lie. Not about the grades because, despite everything, the kid soaks up the things Levi teaches like a sponge, but the other part. A kid who sits there all period long and eyefucks his teacher can’t exactly be considered a model student. “Have you ever thought, Oluo, that maybe it’s just your crappy teaching that is the problem?”

Leaving that dig to sink in, Levi heads back to his classroom, damning himself for insulting his sort of friend, and for wanting a kid half his age so bad his teeth ache with it.

Naturally, Eren is there, waiting for him, when he opens the classroom door.

The young man is leaning against Levi’s desk, half sitting on the edge, head turned toward the window. Unable to help himself, Levi’s eyes sweep down Eren’s profile, lingering on the curve of his jaw, the dip of his collarbone, exposed by the low-scooped t-shirt he wears. His palms are flat on the desk behind him, the lean muscles of his arms in sharp definition from the position, pulling Levi’s gaze to tawny skin, and down further, to his hip and the legs that give him at least three inches on his teacher.

Maybe he inhales or makes another, mostly likely inappropriate sound, because Eren is turning toward him, and those blue-green eyes just pop as the kid smiles, a smile Levi feels all the way down to his knees.

“Mr. Levi,” Eren breathes and the sound is more erotic than the filthiest, loudest moan Levi has ever heard. Since Levi has never confirmed or denied if “Levi” is in fact his first or last name, the kids just stick mister in front of it, which he really doesn’t care about one way or the other, but the way Eren says is just so indecent it ties his stomach in knots.

“What are you doing here, Yeager?” The question barely borders on polite.

Eren isn’t deterred, smile widening. “I wanted to ask your opinion on how postmodernism affected Nabokov’s style.”

He hops off the desk and the edge catches the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up as he steps away, revealing a flat stomach the same warm tones as the rest of his skin. Levi tells himself not to look, but he does.

“Crack a fu ... freaking book,” Levi barely swallows down the instinctive curse, more rattled than he wants to admit. Silver eyes flashing, he strides over to his desk, going around the opposite side from where Eren is standing. “That’s part of your assignment anyway, researching the environment the book you chose was written in.”

“Yeah, but I just want to know what you think.”

“Forget it. And don’t put your butt on my desk again. It’s gross.”

“Can I put it somewhere else then?”

Levi’s eyes snap to Eren’s face. There it is again, that combination of naivete and sensuality, as if Eren knows exactly what he is saying but doesn’t quite understand the repercussions of it.

Feeling his skin tighten, Levi goes perfectly still.

“Get out, Yeager.”

“But sir-”

“Now!” He doesn’t exactly raise his voice but it’s close. “Leave and go work on your assignment. If you half-ass it I won’t have any qualms about failing you.”

Okay, he lets a little curse word through, but it is nothing in light of what the kid is trying to hint at.

Eren’s face falls, gaze darkening, looking greener than ever. “Fine.” His tone is sullen and he picks up the bag he’d stashed on the floor, stomping out without a backwards glance.

Only when he is gone can Levi relax, dropping down in his chair and leaning his head back.

“Fuck,” he complains to the ceiling, wondering if prison or hell are really as bad as their reps, because it seems that’s where he may be heading if things keep going as they are.

The rest of his classes pass by in a blink and he stays a few hours after school is out, like he usually does.

By the time he finishes grading papers and plotting out the next few days’ worth of assignment, the sky has decided to open up. He runs to his car, rain lashing his skin, the wind ripping at his hair. Swearing, he dives inside, soaking the leather seats, letting out another slew of obscenities. It’s cold so he cranks the heat, kicking the wipers on high, and pulls out of the parking lot.

He doesn’t usually smoke in his car, but he needs the nicotine buzz. Cracking the window just enough to keep from suffocating, he lights up, that first long drag almost as good as sex. And that makes him think of Eren again. Fuck. He needs to do something about the situation before it escalates past the point of no return. Maybe he can get the kid transferred to Petra’s class, the other senior lit  teacher.

Mostly satisfied with this idea, he crawls along with the rest of traffic and the dumbasses who think a little rain is an excuse to go twelve fucking miles an hour. He doesn't make it home without incident, however, because the universe isn’t a nice lady but a twisted, psycho bitch who loves to screw with him. His car is just creeping up on the corner of Trost and Klorva when he sees a familiar figure huddling miserably next to the bus stop. Even through the rain he can see Eren’s shirt is torn and something that looks like blood is on his cheek.

Wanting to bang his head against the steering wheel, Levi just grips it instead, waging an internal battle. His conscience wins, or maybe it really loses. Waiting for a break in traffic, he switches lanes and pulls up beside the kid.

Rolling down the window, he leans over as he puts out his cigarette. “Do you need a ride?”

God, that’s a loaded question. Eren’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Is, is it alright?” His voice is hesitant.

“Just get in before I change my mind, brat.”

Levi straightens back in his seat, thinking he’s lost his mind as Eren opens the door and slides inside.

Putting on his blinker, he eases back out on the road. He feels Eren shivering beside him. A flick of his fingers has the heater blasting.

“Thank you,” Eren murmurs, hands coming up in front of the vents.

“You’re dripping all over my expensive leather seats.” Levi ignores his gratitude. “Where’s your umbrella?”

Eren shrugs. “Don’t have one. I usually hitch a ride with Mikasa anyway, but she had work today and then these guys--” He clams up, one hand falling to fidget with hem of his shirt.

Glancing over, Levi has a better glimpse of the rips in his shirt and the cut on his face. He can also see Eren’s hard, pink nipples, stiff from the cold and rain, poking through the now-transparent white cloth. The car suddenly feels too hot, too stifling.

“I can tell you were fighting, kid,” Levi wishes he could light another cigarette. “No use trying to hide it.”

Slumping back in the seat, Eren mumbles, “It was nothing. Just some assholes who have been picking on Armin. They won’t be doing that anymore.”

The last bit is muttered with vehemence. Levi supposes he should reprimand Eren for his language but as someone whose first word was fuck and the second shit he figures it will be hypocritical.

Still…

“Fighting’s no good, brat. Make peace not war and all that crap.”

Eren rolls his eyes and laughs, then winces as it tugs at the cut on his cheek.

“I think it’s make _love_ not war.”

The minute the words leave Eren’s lips, the atmosphere in the car goes heavy.

“That cut on your cheek looks kind of deep,” Levi changes the subject as if there isn't a giant bomb now hovering over the heads, waiting to detonate. “Are your parents going to be okay with you coming home like that?”

“It’s just my dad and he’s out of town on business again so it doesn’t matter.”

Because he’s driving, Levi can’t kick his own ass for the words that spill unconsciously from his lips following that statement.

“Then want to come back to my place so I can patch you up before I take you home?”

He doesn’t look over but he can feel Eren turn to stare at him.

“Do you mean that?”

Shit! “I did but now I’m not so sure.”

“No!” A hand, larger than his own, touches his arm, and it sears his skin through the damp sleeve of his shirt. “I want to go. I mean I would appreciate if I could clean up before going home.”

A quick glance over and he has an up close and personal view of those beautiful, wide eyes. The bottom falls out and Levi understands there is no going back, not anymore.

Knowing he is signing over his soul, he asks harshly, “How old are you, Eren?”

“Seventeen.” The hand on his arm creeps up, seeming to realize Levi’s resistance is weakening, curling around his bicep.

Levi grits his teeth. “And when’s your birthday?”

“Next week.” Warm breath ghosts across his face. Eren is leaning over the console, invading Levi's space.

Jolting, Levi turns the wheel too sharp and the car swerves to to the right.

“Sit back in your fucking seat before I put you there.” He’s hanging on by a thread.

Eren’s lips part in surprise, though he settles back into this seat. “That’s the first time I have ever heard you talk like that.”

“Get used to it.”

Pushing the pedal as hard as he dares, Levi keeps his eyes on the road, refusing to look over at his passenger again. They might end up in a fucking ditch if he does.

Fifteen minutes later, they are in his entryway.

Pulling off his shoes, he points at Eren. “Take off your shoes and don’t move from that spot. I mean it.”

The kid nods, looking like a drowned mouse that has rumbled with an alley cat and lost. Leaving him there, Levi stalks through his pristine apartment. The stark black and whites are probably jarring for the younger man but Levi likes the clean simplicity of it. In his bedroom, he strips off his damp button-up, snags a shirt and a pair of shorts from his dresser, and stops by the bathroom, grabbing two towels and the first aid kit.

Eren is exactly where he left him, having followed his instructions to a tee. The look he gives Levi when he sees the man’s naked chest is that same one he likes to throw out in class, only a hundred times hotter. It strokes Levi’s ego, that look, as well as other things, things below his belt.

Throwing the towel at Eren’s head, he growls, “Dry off. I don’t want you stampeding through my apartment flinging water everywhere.” Padding over to the kitchen counter, he places the kit and the clothes to the side

Complying, Eren rubs the towel over his head and neck, stealing glances at Levi every chance he gets. Levi does the same, drying his hair with rough, compact movements. His body is wound as tightly as a bow and it’s taking all of his will to not fall on Eren like a ravening beast. He’s the adult, dammit, he should have more control than this.

After Eren is sufficiently dry, Levi picks up the clothes off the counter.

“Strip.”

For the first time, some of that bravado fades and Eren’s eyes flicker.

“Jesus Christ I’m not going to fuck you in the doorway, Eren. Just get out of those wet clothes and put these on so you don’t get a goddamn fever.”

Eren’s arms crisscross over his body, hands gripping the bottom of his shirt. He starts to lift and then stops, staring into Levi’s eyes. “But, we are going to um do that, right?”

Levi doesn’t know whether to be irritated that the younger man can't even say the actual word, or amused.

“Is that why you think I brought you here?” He counters with his own question.

Yanking his shirt off, Eren let’s it hang from the tips of his fingers. “It’s what I'm hoping for, yeah.” He raises his chin in challenge.

Before the brat can drop the shirt to the floor, Levi snatches it from him. “Why me, Eren? You’re a good looking kid,” his eyes skirt over Eren’s chest but don’t cling there, not yet, not if he wants to get through treating those wounds. “And you have a shit ton of friends from what I have seen. I can’t figure why you would want me. I’m not as young as you. I’ve got a shitty personality, and I hate just about everyone.”

“I just do,” Eren struggles to explain something Levi really needs to understand. “When I saw you that first day of school, I just knew you were the one. And I know you aren’t as much of a hard ass as you pretend to be. I saw you change Ms. Ral’s tire that time for her in the snow and I heard you argued with the school board on behalf of the nurse Ms. Zoë when they found out she was transgendered.”

His shoulders itch as Eren trots his “good” deeds out. “What are you, some kind of freaking stalker or something?” he asks to cover up his discomfort.

He gets a sheepish smile in response. “Uh, yeah, I guess.”

“Creepy.”

Eren flushes at the blunt appraisal. “Anyway, you’re smart and have a cool sense of humor, even as twisted as it is, and you’re beautiful.” He blushes a little harder at the last comment.

“And I’m twice your age.” Levi doesn’t touch the beautiful remark.

“So? In a week I will be an adult and it won’t matter.” Eren blows it off like the age gap is nothing.

“And I’m shorter than you.” Most of the time Levi’s height doesn’t bother him, but sometimes a little hint of a complex shines through.

“So?” Courage apparently returning, Eren lets his eyes rake over Levi’s body. “As long as Part A fits into Slot B then it’s all good, right?”

An unwilling smile tugs the corner of Levi’s lips. “For the record, I don’t plan on being Slot B.”

 _Fwoosh_ , the color returns to Eren’s face with a vengeance. “I, I didn’t think you would be.”

“You’re such a paradox, brat. I can’t quite figure you out.”

“Then that means you’ll keep thinking about me.” Brilliant eyes peer up at him from beneath brown lashes. “So I hope you never do.”

A comeback to that eludes Levi. He just shakes his head instead. “Stop talking and get out of those pants.”

“I thought you would never ask.”

An impish gleam in his eye, Eren unbuckles his belt and drops trow, taking his underwear with him. This time Levi can’t help but look. Even wet and chilled, even with a cut on his face, the younger man is already half hard, and he's perfectly formed, curving a little to the side, jutting up toward that slightly concave belly. For some reason, Levi is absolutely fascinated by the hollow of Eren’s hip and he has the overwhelming desire to trace that little valley with his tongue.

Unwilling to go back on his word and take Eren right there in the hallway, he swipes the pants and hands over the shorts and shirt.

“Get dressed and sit on that stool,” he waves a hand over at the bar on the other side of the kitchen counter. “I’m going to go throw your clothes in the wash.”

He’s turning away before Eren begins to dress.

While he’s gone, he takes the time to shimmy out of his wet trousers and put on a pair of lightweight, drawstring house pants that hang low on his waist but fit right in the length so he doesn’t have to roll them up. He hates when he as to do that.

Back in the front room, Eren is on the stool, kicking his feet back and forth. Levi’s shirt is too big because he’s broader in the shoulders but his shorts are really, _really_ short on the kid, hiking up high on Eren’s thigh, showing lots of leg and sleek, smooth skin. The image is a heady one and Levi’s thankful his cotton pants are so loose, other wise he'd be embarrassing himself right about now.

Sucking in a hot breath, he walks over to the counter, takes the first aid kit, and swings back around to stand between Eren’s legs. Sitting as he is, they are actually eye to eye and it’s somehow intimate.

“Hold this.” The box is thrust into Eren’s hand. Opening it, Levi digs out the antiseptic and cotton balls. “The blood’s dried so this is probably going to hurt,” he murmurs after dampening the cotton.

As expected, Eren hisses at the first touch, flinching back.

“Don’t be a wimp. If you are strong enough to get into fights then you are strong enough to handle a little alcohol.”

“But it stings,” Eren whines a little. “Besides those dicks started it.”

“You realize that’s something a five year-old would say.”

“It’s still true.”

This close, Levi is surrounded by Eren’s scent and he inhales deeply. Carefully, he cleans and disinfects the cut, dragging his thumb across Eren’s face as he works, marveling at the soft flesh.

Suddenly, he has to ask, “Are you a virgin, Eren?”

The cheek under his hand heats but Eren doesn’t look away from him. “No.”

“Just women, or men, too?”

Now Eren glances down. “Both. I had a girlfriend before but,” he makes a face and shrugs. Levi can read the kid’s entire relationship with that one little movement. “And then uh I kind of slept with Jean.” Another face, this time self-directed disgust. “He likes Mikasa and I like you and we got drunk after getting into an argument one night and cried about our broken hearts and it just sort of happened.”

The right thing to do would be to lecture Eren on underage drinking. What comes out instead is,“But it won’t happen again.” Levi is many things, but he’s not a man who plays well with others, and he definitely doesn’t share.

“If I have you, why would I need anyone else?”

“You’re such a little shit,” Levi tosses the used cotton into the trash and takes the kit from Eren’s hands, putting it up on the bar. Placing his palms on either side of Eren’s face, he trains his gaze on the other’s eyes. “This is your last chance. You can still back out and I will bundle you up and take you back home and we can just pretend this never happened.”

Eren’s hands come up to cover his, fitting long fingers in the spaces between his own. “After seven months of one-sided feelings, there’s no way in hell I will back out now.”

“It wasn’t always one-sided,” Levi says quietly and the last vestiges of doubt and resistance melt away.

Sliding his hands up to knot in Eren’s hair, he yanks the younger man into a hot, possessive kiss.

Tongue pressing home, he uses his expertise and strength to set the pace. Eren makes a muffled sound, his own tongue sloppily twining with Levi’s, fingers finding the older man’s shoulders and digging in.

That first touch on his naked skin is a punch in the gut. Wedging himself closer, he crowds Eren back against the bar, deepening the kiss. His body hardens almost painfully and he can’t stop himself from grinding it into Eren’s belly. If he thinks his forcefulness will scare Eren off, he’s wrong.

Eren’s lean, trim legs in those short shorts wrap around his waist and the hands on his shoulders move down, exploring the bumps of his spine, down to his ass to clamp hard. And then the kid rocks into him, and by the rigid flesh digging into him he can tell Eren is definitely happy to be there.

All the blood in Levi’s body rushes to his groin, pooling in his dick, throbbing so hard he feels like he has a second heart down there. Releasing Eren’s lips, he buries his head in the slender column of the younger man’s throat and nips his ear.

“You’re asking for it,” he hums against that warm, damn skin.

The legs caging his waist squeeze harder. “Then give it to me.” Eren sounds like he’s been running a marathon while smoking five packs of cigarettes, his voice is that raspy, that ragged.

Levi curses, reaching down to grab Eren’s ass, slinging that taller frame up with no effort at all, spinning around to head toward his bedroom.

“Whoa,” Eren grabs onto him, legs tightening.

“Don’t worry, I’m strong enough not to drop you.”

A breathless laugh escapes Eren’s mouth. “I noticed.”

Arms wind around Levi’s neck and a hot, wet mouth seeks out his neck, pressing burning kisses up and down his throat as he walks.

Once in the bedroom, they fall on the bed, kissing and licking and groaning. Eren’s nails are scratching at his back and he knows the red welts will be there for days and he fucking loves it.

“It’s a good thing today is Friday.” The statement is accompanied by him stripping Eren’s borrowed shirt off.

Round, passion-glazed eyes look up at him. “Why?”

“Because I don’t plan on either of us being able to walk tomorrow.” Staring at Eren’s chest, properly this time, he does what he has wanted to do since seeing the outline of those hard nipples in his car. He attacks them.

They are pebbled and hot, stabbing into his hands as he rolls and flicks them. Under him, Eren starts to writhe, gasping and moaning, shoving his chest harder against Levi’s fingers. Bending over, he takes one hard nub in his mouth, scraping it with his teeth and lapping it with his tongue.

Legs move along his, sliding restlessly. One hand leaves his back, rotates to his front, cups his cock right through his pants, making him exhale across Eren’s skin, eliciting a shudder from the younger man as his breath blows across damp, sensitive skin.

Switching to Eren’s other nipple, he repeats the torment, tugging and biting and laving while the fingers on his groin stroke and trace. A damp spot starts to form at the head and that’s his signal to remove the rest of their clothing.

There’s a hamper across the room and he easily tosses their discarded clothing into it. No way he’s going to do something messy like litter his floor with dirty garments.

The nightstand next to the bed has all the items he needs and he’s back, licking and sucking Eren’s neck, his collarbone, his chest, while slick fingers play along Eren’s sex, earning little whimpers from the younger man. His hand bumps lower, cradling hard balls, and lower still, to the furled entrance hidden between Eren’s cheeks.

Tension vibrates through Eren’s muscles and he can feel it. He touches their lips together again, whispering into Eren’s mouth to relax, licking and nibbling the corners until he does.

He rubs around the outside, rimming it with his finger a few times, pushing in finally, past the tight resistance. Another finger follows, sliding to the hilt, and then he moves them, massaging from the inside in slow, easy strokes.

Eren’s back arches off the bed, eyes rolling back.

“Oh, _crap_ , that didn’t happen before!”

“Don’t talk about your previous shitty experience when you are in bed with me, brat.” Levi warns, biting the kid’s chin none-too-gently, fingers pushing deeper and faster.

“Sorry but _hnng_ ,” Eren’s hips jerk, “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”

“Feels good, huh?” Hooded silver eyes watch Eren twist and come apart beneath him.

“Oh yeah, more than good. Awesome.”

Levi can’t take anymore. It’s a fucking miracle he’s held out as long as he has with that all that smooth skin and those big eyes and that body moving against him.

Removing his fingers, he picks up the condoms, rolling one on himself and the other on Eren because he doesn't need the mess on his sheets.

Bending Eren nearly in half, he thrusts home, having to work a little as he goes deeper.

Eren cries out, hands flying up to grip the pillow under his head.

“You okay?” Levi manages to bite out.

The kid nods, shifting so his knees fall further apart, allowing Levi to slip all the way in like he’s made of oil. He shudders as his balls meet flesh and then he’s moving, shoving, pounding to the sound of bed springs creaking and Eren keening and groaning.

A drumroll thunders through his body, getting stronger as it reaches his cock. Pleasure stabs into him, a knife that doesn’t hurt. Eren is scalding, snug, clinging to him each time he withdraws. He’s aware the brat is calling his name, “ _Levi, Levi, Levi,_ ” and it ratchets up the heat boiling in his belly.

Anchoring his knees against the mattress, he puts a hand under Eren’s ass, tilting him up, allowing him to drive even deeper. Hips hammering so hard he feels bruised from it, he grasps Eren’s cock, rubbing it counter to his strokes. He can feel his orgasm approaching like a fucking freight train and he’s damned if he’s going to go first. Adjusting his angle, he searches for that magic spot and knows he's found it when Eren throws back his head and nearly screams.

Keeping that position, he rubs and touches and ruts, working them both into a flushed, heated sweat.

He can tell Eren’s cumming as the muscles surrounding his cock contract and bear down seconds before the dick in his hand spasms and Eren shouts his name. Giving himself permission now, he slams forward a few more times and just explodes, climax ripping a low, fragmented moan from his throat.

Levi just sort of collapses after that, heart going ninety to nothing, chest burning as he grapples with learning to breathe normally again. He’s probably squishing Eren, because he’s heavier than he looks, but the kid isn’t complaining. Yet.

Finally, he lifts his head, looking into green eyes that are brighter than ever.

“You okay?” he asks for the second time.

Eren blinks. “I’ll let you know when I can feel my toes again.”

He actually has to hold back a laugh at that. Who knew the kid could be funny?

The cleanup is disgusting because sex is not exactly a tidy activity, and when they stumble into the shower everything is still new and wondrous and they can’t keep their hands to themselves, using fingers and mouths to fall off that edge again.

Back in bed, he tucks Eren close against his body and though he thinks he should feel guilty or distraught by what he has allowed to happen, he can’t.

However…

“This can’t happen again,” he softly states against Eren’s temple.

Eren rears up, nearly headbutting him. “What do you mean?” His eyes are round with panic.

“Let me finish, dumbass,” Levi thumps Eren on top of the head. “This can’t happen again until you graduate.”

“But I turn eighteen next week.”

“And you’ll still be my student. I may be a shitty adult but even I have my limits.”

A little pout forms on Eren’s mouth. “Then what was today?”

“A mid-life crisis.”

“You aren’t old enough for that.” The kid snorts, but his expression is still upset.

“It’s only three months, shitty brat. You can hold out that long, and if you can’t use your hand.”

“Is that what you’ll be doing?”

“Every damn day.”

Eren is quiet for a bit and sighs. He drops his head back to Levi’s chest. “Well what if I seduce you?”

Levi’s fingers tunnel through messy brown hair as he smirks. “You’re welcome to try.”

Naturally, the brat takes that as a challenge, but Levi holds on to his resolve in the long months that follow.

Except for the one time he doesn’t.

The end

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this and to everyone who has read, kudos'd and commented on my other two Snk Riren works.  
> It makes me want to write more for them.
> 
> Also, Lolita is a pretty famous and controversial work, especially for the time in which it was written. A college professor gets obsessed with the very much too young Lolita and engages in a relationship with her. The Police song references this so I added it into the story, having Eren basically tease Levi with a fic about a teacher and a younger lover. The actual Lolita story is pretty disturbing imo and I don't condone relationships like that, obviously.


End file.
